


Tentacles ahoy!

by Camfield



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camfield/pseuds/Camfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Universe: G1<br/>Characters: Perceptor, Soundwave<br/>Rating: NC17<br/>Warnings: Tentacles, hard non-con,violence.  I made myself a little woozy, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.  <br/>A/N:  For Dellessa and Shibara, who I blame love for this.  Oh you two.  This is my first time with tentacle prons.  I’m very, very, very sorry.  Very.  Very sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dellessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/gifts), [Shibara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shibara/gifts).



Perceptor rarely found himself out on the battlefield. His armor was light, and while he could almost match Bluestreak as a sniper, it wasn’t worth the risks. He helped in other ways, and that had been good enough.

Except today, when all available hands had been called to help fight off the latest Decepticon scheme.

Perceptor tightened his grasp on the light blaster he held, picking off drone after drone as they swarmed the Autobots. Adjusting himself against the rock he was using for cover, Perceptor raised his gun to shoot again, so focused on his task that he didn’t catch Laserbeak circling overhead.

~~

“Soundwave’s disappeared!”

“Find him! NOW”

It was chaos as the bots tried to catch sight of the Decepticon third in command. Blaster fire raining down in thick streams of red to knock mech after mech to the ground, each looking to see if they could find the navy and white mech before something terribly bad happened.

~~

Perceptor had heard the call, absently filing away the message. He and Bluestreak were far enough back that they shouldn’t have to worry about Soundwave. There were other bots doing more damage, and who were more important besides, Perceptor focused again on shooting.

Point, aim, shoot.

Point, aim, shoot.

Point, Soundwave?

Soundwave. Soundwave?!

The mech was close, far too close for Perceptor’s comfort. He tried to radio the others, but the channels were predictably scrambled and he couldn’t get through. Panic beginning to set in as he scrambled back away, trying to calculate a route that would get him past the navy mech and back to the relative safety of the group.

But for each move Perceptor made, Soundwave countered. His cassettes popping up to block his path when he made progress, until Perceptor was cornered before he even realized it. Backed up against a rock face, gun hand trembling as he raised it for a last stand. Not even getting a shot off before tentacles flew from Soundwave’s frame to knock it from his fingers. Pinning his arms and legs to the rock and moving in closer all the while.

“I-I...I won’t tell you anything Decepticon!”

Soundwave moved in until he was pressed against the microscope’s front. Hands braced against the rock on either side of the red helm as he leaned in, Perceptor turning his head to get as far away as the unyielding surface behind him would allow.

“Soundwave: Uninterested in Autobot secrets.”

Another tentacle came up and rubbed over Perceptor’s valve panel, so bold that he squawked and tried to clench his knees together, anything to get away from the touch.

“NO!! P-p-please! No!”

The white facemask separated to reveal a smirk, visor coming up to show blood red optics, darkened in what Perceptor really didn’t want to admit was arousal. The tentacles on his legs and arms picking him up and throwing him over another rock, aft presented to the tape deck. His limbs once again immobilized as he tried to fight, tried to get away from his attacker.

“Autobot: Will be screaming for more. Rescue: Will become unneeded.”

A sob, and Perceptor turned his head away, unwilling to look at what was happening. Vents catching uncontrollably as the back of his thighs were grasped, more tentacles rubbing, caressing the struts and plating of his back, his aft. Prying open his interface panel, the tips digging into the seams until it buckled enough that Soundwave could grasp it, ripping it off in a single motion that had Perceptor wailing in pain.

“Monster! I’ll never want anything from you!”

He felt denta bite the plating of his aft, and one tendril slip into his valve. Prodding the walls as it moved to brush the very top of Perceptor’s channel, deliberately pressing against the ceiling node. 

Perceptor felt a rush of heat to his groin and wailed even louder, sobs and whimpers coming from his vocalizer in stereo as he pleaded with Soundwave. His noises becoming muffled as a thick tentacle stuffed itself past his lip components, down his intake tubing and into his fuel tank. The end scraping lightly at the exit sealing rings that sent it into the many lines throughout his body, sending shivers and causing him to convulse against the sensations.

He bit at the cord, grinding his denta down against it as it rotated. Muffled cries and sounds the only thing that came from his mouth as he tried to struggle out of Soundwave’s hold. A second tentacle pressing into his valve beside the first, the two twining together, spiraling like a drill first one way, then the other. Perceptor jerking and venting heavily as he pleaded with his voice, with his mind, for Soundwave to stop, to let him go.

Again and again the ever changing shape of the tips pushed and prodded against his valve, lubricant flowing, dripping out from him in a continuous, steady stream, that fell with a plop against the metal of Soundwave’s pede. Perceptor losing track of time as a third shoved in and he felt the flexible rim of his valve tear. A sob pushing past the tentacle still in his mouth, turning into a scream as Soundwave pulled outward, shoving a fourth down the middle of the other three to slam against the top, energon mixing with lubricant as a loud ripping noise rang out into the air. Not pausing once in his intensity, hands gripping just under his arm joints, cracking the metal as fingers dug relentlessly into the flimsy armor.

“Autobots: Have no idea where Perceptor is. Perceptor: Is Soundwave’s.”

Another wail tried to make its way out of Perceptor’s mouth, his leg hydraulics pressurizing, trying to fire, trying to push him away from the rock, away from Soundwave. Anything to get him away from the pain, the mech, to find another Autobot before he was offlined. The cords holding his legs lifted and jerked, pulling them until the hinge joints were straining, starting to bend the wrong way from the pressure.

Perceptor’s tanks tried to purge, energon forcing its way past the tentacle still in his intake tube to spatter on the rock he was pressed against, the half processed liquid dripping from his mouth in a pink stream that spread over everything. The tip still scraping around his tank finally moulding a point and spearing the outtake seal, energon seeping past the puncture hole to drip into Perceptor’s systems, out through the cracks in his armor to pool with the mess under him. Smearing over the rock, and Soundwave as he was jostled and thrust into, the tentacles never stopping their painful movement.

The cord in his mouth retracted, pulling unrepentantly against the clenching intake valve, grabbing one of the four separate quarters and pulling it as Soundwave left Perceptor’s tank, tearing a strip of intake tubing the whole way up to his mouth. Hands coming up and forcing his mouth to stay open as Soundwave flicked the pink stained rubber away, coming back to trace his glossa lightly.

The red mech’s optics were rolling in their sockets, frame both limp and taught at the same time, convulsions wracking his armor, making the light plates clank together as his processor tried to shut down as many non essential systems as possible. A deft roll of the cord in his mouth, then Perceptor’s vents stopped as his glossa was ripped from the malleable metal. Helm flying back as his systems went into shock, body locked in a perpetual arched position, fingers scrabbling for something, anything to hold on to to keep him grounded and finding nothing but rock and air. Not even feeling when his spike panel was ripped off and held to the side, spike pulled forcefully from its housing and Soundwave’s hands abandoned Perceptor’s mouth to grasp it, the tentacle holding the glossa rolling it, thinning it out. Spike held straight as he began to push the glossa into the tip, his hands steady as he shoved it into the transfluid channel. The much-too-large piece of metal ripping and tearing the head of the spike, though Soundwave didn’t stop pushing until it was nearly all the way in. Shoving the spike back in its housing and crimping the edges to make it stay there.

Finally pulling his tentacles out of Perceptor and letting the scientist slide to the ground, his own spike pressurising into his hand, a few short strokes before he came. Shooting transfluid over Perceptor with a satisfying splat. Hand grabbing the unseeing helm and hauling the bot up by it, looking him in dim optics before dropping him back to the ground.

“Autobots: Will never win.”

Soundwave shook his tentacles, walking away even as they returned to their place in his frame. Leaving Perceptor partially propped against the rock, bleeding his precious energon into the desert sand.


	2. Tentacles Ahoy 2!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Universe: G1  
> Characters: Perceptor, Soundwave  
> Rating: NC17  
> Warnings: Tentacles, dub-con to oh yes! Petulant Soundwave, HOUSEWIFE PERCEPTOR. SRSLY.  
> A/N: For Dellessa and Shibara, who I blame love for this. Oh you two. This is my second time with tentacle prons. I’m still very, very, very sorry. Still. Very. Very sorry.

Perceptor was rarely on the battlefield. His light armor wasn’t meant to protect him against blaster fire, and though his aim was nearly as good as Bluestreaks, the risks involved with him being on the battlefield were often greater than the return.

Still, with the latest scheme came a need for bodies, and Perceptor was more than capable of holding a gun. He stood next to Wheeljack as they faced off against the Decpticons, the line up glaring at each other as their leaders struck their poses.

“Autobots!”

“Decepticons!”

 

ATTAC-”

 

Suddenly Soundwave stepped from his leader’s side, walking with singular intent over to the Autobot’s side of the field. Not pausing when guns appeared in his face, tentacles out from his frame as he moved closer and closer...

And Perceptor realized that he was heading straight for him.

He made slight head shakes, frantically trying to get Soundwave to back off. Watching in fear as the mouthguard snapped open, as the visor slid up into the helm housing. His hand loosing its grip on his blaster as he was taken in white arms and kissed thoroughly, even as his own hands were shoving at Soundwave’s helm.

“Get -Mmmph- OFF!”

 

Soundwave released his mouth, but didn’t move back. His tentacles wrapping around Perceptor with a possessive growl, glaring at the Autobots that were in touching range, a moue of jealousy appearing on his face.

“Soundwave: Wants Perceptor. Now.”

Megatron and Prime were looking at each other, the whole armada standing googly eyed as Perceptor struggled weakly against the stronger mech, bracing an arm between them as he tried to prise himself away. “No! Get OFF Soundwave!”

A growl, and suddenly Soundwave was in motion again, hauling the scientist up, turning him around, and pressing him against the nearest surface, a large rock, the thick cords waving around him like he was some kind of giant metal medusa, still ignoring the rest of the Autobots, even though he had a half dozen blasters pointed at his helm. Settling behind him, against him, tentacles caressing, dipping through armor plates to smooth over neural lines and protoform.

“Soundwave: Wants Perceptor NOW.”

No one could miss the jealous and petulant tone, even in Soundwave’s modulated voice. He sounded like a sparkling who’d just been told he couldn’t have another energon goodie, and he wasn’t happy about it.

“Perceptor: Always busy. Soundwave: Worthy of Perceptor’s attentions! Will not: Take no for an answer.”

Perceptor pushed backward, wiggling enough to turn himself around in the tape deck’s hold. “Honestly. I can’t believe you’re doing this now! You were the one who left me to go ‘play with the boys’! It wasn’t like I walked out on you, REALLY!” His voice was steely, hard, unforgiving. Looking Soundwave straight in the optics as he poked a finger into the deck mech’s cassette door. 

“I don’t have to answer to you anymore Soundwave. You lost the privilege of my attentions when you didn’t come back home, instead gallivanting off with those hooligans!”

He tried to push Soundwave off again, but the navy mech wouldn’t budge, holding on to the scientist tightly, as if he let go he’d never get close enough to hold him again. “Soundwave: Apologizes.” It was said softly, barely audible to those nearest Perceptor, the red bot turning his head and crossing his arms, not looking at Soundwave.

“You hurt me Soundwave. I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive that yet.”

The barest look of hurt crossed Soundwave’s face before he buried it in Perceptor’s neck, his grip tightening to the point that armor creaked. “Soundwave: Will prove to Perceptor his intentions.”

In an instant the mood changed, the cassette holder’s hands gently grasping Perceptor’s face and drawing him in to kiss him slowly, the barest pressure of lips against lips. Soft and sweet and slow and Soundwave knocked the red minibot in the back of the helm with a tentacle when he heard fake gagging noises. Ignoring the “Hey!” that sounded afterward as he kissed the scientist with all the passion he could muster, very aware of the optics that were turned on them.

Blocking Perceptor’s attempts to pull away, hands clasping his helm just the slightest bit tighter, lips moving more firmly, whispered apologies filling the space between them each time they parted. Tentacles trailing over red armor with intent as they moved. Teasing neural lines, skewing and resettling armor plates as they moved in never ending caresses across Perceptor’s body.

One tip flattening, rubbing circles over the metal of his valve panel, two other cords coming up to curl around the tops of the red mech’s thighs, pulling them apart slightly, enough for Soundwave to press them fully together. Ignoring the arguing of the two leaders behind him, ignoring the hoots and whistles from his faction and the comments from Perceptor’s. Focusing only on the mech in front of him, glossa tasting, trailing over denta and the smooth metal of his inner mouth. Tentacle still rubbing against Perceptor’s interface panel, a slow circular motion that made teal thighs quake. Black pedes trying to get purchase against the ground, the scientist trying not to give in, not to let Soundwave do this here of all places, and failing spectacularly.

Losing his battle vent by vent, until he finally stopped fighting against the sensations just let himself BE. His arms going from fisted against Soundwave’s tape deck door to around his torso, pulling him in tight. Kisses turning fierce as he finally began to participate, began to reciprocate. Legs shifting, one coming up to hook around Soundwave’s pelvic plate, valve panel snapping open between them, the tentacle that had been rubbing the metal slowly beginning to thrust in and out of Perceptor.

Soundwave was vaguely aware of the mass of mecha around him, only peripherally paying attention to them, his focus trained on the mech writhing in front of him, against him. One hand going down to hold that teal and black leg against him, the other going up to trace the lens of Perceptor’s microscope. Thumb scraping lightly against the glass, the pressure light, not even enough to scratch the surface.  
A hitch in the scientist’s vents had Soundwave pulling back, optics concerned as he stilled. Shocked to see coolant running down Perceptor’s face, pulling back even further before black hands stopped him, pulling Soundwave back to him, against him. A moan slipping out as he rocked his hips into each thrust, a second tentacle smoothing over the flexible rim before nudging inside. Moving it alongside the first, activating sensor nodes as he slid over them, gently stretching Perceptor’s valve with each pass.

His own spike pressurizing, the hand that had been caressing Perceptor’s microscope coming down to guide him forward, until he was edging the head in. Rocking slowly, giving the scientist time to relax before pushing a little bit more until he was fully hilted, tentacles still thrusting into Perceptor and against his own spike. The cords forming a misshapen triangle of metal that distended and thinned the valve rim until it was almost translucent in some places, purple lubricant dripping between them, making everything slick and warm and Perceptor didn’t even care that they were in front of all his friends and comrades. His leader. Just that Soundwave hadn’t done this in so long and it felt so good, so right that he just clung to the mech, sobs and moans ringing out in the air as he wiggled and rocked against the tape deck. Grunts and soft noises of pleasure against his lips, his neck, as Soundwave worked his spike and tentacles in opposite motions, one leaving where the other entered.

The red mech felt the telltale burning in his tank, valve clenching rhythmically as best it was able over the three cords, fingers digging into cords and cabling as they spasmed. The feeling blooming into an inferno of heat that exploded outward from his groin.

Perceptor wailed in overload, helm thrown back and hands clutching Soundwave’s shoulders. Frame shuddering as the electric charge ran through it, cracking and arcing from him to Soundwave and back. The feel of it making the navy mech shudder, his movements stopping as transfluid erupted to slam against the back of Perceptor’s valve, the viscous purple liquid dripping down to mix with the mess already on the ground.

He dropped his helm, tucking it into Perceptor’s condensate damp neck cabling. Venting heavily as he supported their weight, holding the red frame close as they both cooled down from overload.

“Soundwave: Not leaving Perceptor again.”

And thus, the war ended pending one menacing, hovering Soundwave. A treaty hammered out right there on the spot, no one willing to anger the mech currently vacuum sealed to the petite Autobot scientist.

Clang!

“OW MECH! What was that for!”

“Cliffjumper’s thoughts: Unacceptable. Punishment immanent.”

“Soundwave, leave the poor bots alone. I’ve dealt with them, for millennia now, I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

“Perceptor: Soundwave’s. Cliffjumper: Sexual deviant.”

“Don’t you even start that again! This is why I was alone for how many vorn? I’m perfectly capable of holding my own against other mechs thank you very much!”

“Soundwave: Thinks Perceptor needs to remember who he belongs to.”

No one on the Ark recharged for the next week.


End file.
